


A carrot was really the best you could do, Schmart?

by bubblegumboi (Hawkbringer)



Series: Hawkbringer's Greatest Hits [5]
Category: Get Smart - All Media Types
Genre: 1960s TV show, Anal Sex, Banter, Barebacking, Explicit Sexual Content, Frenemies, Hair-pulling, I spelled siegfried with a z, Improvised Sex Toys, Infidelity Mention, Loud Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Bottom Maxwell Smart, Siegfried's ridiculous accent, Spit As Lube, Voyeurism, improper use of a vegetable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 06:56:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18177335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkbringer/pseuds/bubblegumboi
Summary: After weeks of spying on Smart, watching him use a carrot of all things for self-pleasure, Ziegfried finally snaps and storms in to show Smart how it's really done.





	A carrot was really the best you could do, Schmart?

**Author's Note:**

> Around 2009, my little sister got really into watching the 1960s TV show version of Get Smart and hoooo-boy, after that crossdressing episode? This fic practically wrote itself. I'm VERY proud of how in-character they are! The accent is very cringe, I know, but it was in the show, too. Basically plotless smut, served hot, wet, and filthy. Enjoy!

Max grits his teeth, his hips thrusting up against the air, his toes painfully curled. Twists the carrot harder, searching for that one sweet spot- "C'mon, baby, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, come---" Then the door bursts open. 

Ziegfried, his old KAOS nemisis, strides confidently into the entryway. "Ah-ha, Schmart, I have caught you in zee act--!"

Smart blanches, cock going instantly limp. "Z-Ziegfried!" He hurries to pull the carrot out of his backside, hoping to hide it somewhere under the couch cushions before--

"Vhat vere you doing vit zat veg-it-table?" No such luck.

"That's none of your business, Ziegfried," Max informs him curtly, "now, let me tell you - you don't just walk into a Control agent's living room while he's on vacation without giving him some kind of a warning!"

"Vat you vant me to do, schend a postcard?"

"Well, if ya gave me an ETA or something-" (laughtrack)

"Nnnnt! Enough! Hand me that veg-it-table Schmart, und I vill show you vhat I came to do!"

Gingerly, Max hands him the unsliced carrot with the ring carved out of the wider end. Hopes that his old nemisis doesn't notice the Vaseline smeared all over it. No such luck.

"Vhat is this, Schmart? Vhere has this been? It's covered in--" He runs a finger over it, rubs his fingers together. "Vaseline??? Where did you put this that you would need Vaseline to get it in!? I've never--" His face freezes, then melts into something Max knows he is very much not going to like.

"Ohhh... yesh I have, actually. Were you, uh...?" The gesture he makes twists Max's stomach and that's not a good thing considering what he had for lunch.

"I'm not talking!" Max informs him briskly, then turns his head away so Ziegfried won't see his wince of anticipation.

"Vell, I don't need you to! I vill simply... /inspect/ for myschelf!" 

Max squints harder, but then his face relaxes into pleasured shock as his enemy's hand drifts down the front of his open shirt and curls eagerly around his still-limp dick. His pants are then shoved down to his knees, where they'd sat just seconds before Ziegfried made his dramatic entrance.

"Did the unbelted pants give it away?" Max asks (without realizing he spoke out loud) as his archnemisis peels them away and roughly pulls Max to his feet by his hips. His face set in a vaguely interested smirk, Ziegfried then takes Max's shoulders and for a bloodcurdling moment Max fears he's going to kiss him, but all he does is spin the other man around and press his shoulders down on top of the short wall behind Max's couch. 

"Now, vhere ist zat carrot?" A shell-shocked Max simply pats his hand, reminding Ziegfried that he's still holding it.

"Small end first," Max helpfully advises, then squints his eyes shut again, knowing that now, Ziegfried will probably follow his damn advice. /If I could just keep my mouth shut/ Max curses to himself.

Ziegfried pauses, though, studying the jerry-rigged instrument of self-pleasure while Max can't see his face. "You know," he starts, conversationally, as though he had simply met this man in the street and hasn't tried to kill him or have him killed 60-odd times since they've met, as though he doesn't currently have another man bent over his own wall-partition, about to stick a sexually-modded carrot where the sun doesn't shine - "This carrot is rather schmall, Schamrt. I have a bigger von." 

"What??" Ziegfried doesn't reply. Max can't see, but from behind him comes the sound of spitting, then a very cold hand slides over his exposed backside and he squeals in a very unmanly way. His nemisis takes advantage of the fact that Max did indeed have that carrot in a highly unorthodox place just moments ago, and his muscle has not quite shrunk back to its normal girth and his fingers enter him so easily, so quickly, that Max groans. Inside, he's still slick with white petrolatum and the noises that Ziegfried's fingers make as they slide into and out of him just harden his cock all over again. In his defense, no man can resist manual stimulation.

"Ahh, vhat ist das?" Ziegfried asks, a smile in his tone as he slides his other hand around Max's bare hip and twirls the tip of his finger over the crown of Max's shaft. He squeals again, and it draws out into a moan as Ziggy's fingers twist and jab down towards the front of his pelvis. His other hand climbs nimbly down Max's shaft and starts rolling it around, working it to full mast. It takes an embarrassingly short time, Max's face flushed red and his breath coming in huffs and his only words as stutters. 

An ominous clicking sound comes from behind him, then the shuffle of fabric leaving skin and then the thing Max has been aching for since the identity of the intruder on his pleasure became clear - An inescapable heat and weight presses against his hips, sliding over the cleft of his backside, just above his entrance. There comes a shock of cold as Ziegfried's wet fingers pull out of his ass, then a second shock, just as jarring, as a fist, circled around the other man's cock, makes contact with his backside. Ziegfried then spreads his fingers, guiding himself in. Max huffs louder, his back bowing forward as his nemisis spears him. He almost makes a sound of protest at the speed with which he's entered, but Ziggy smacks his free hand across Max's left cheek, giving as his only explanation - "Ve don't protest here!"

Max grinds his teeth and lets him push inside, relaxing his sphincter by conscious effort. It is Ziegfried's turn to gasp as his path eases without warning and his hips slide into contact with Max's. He then shifts his throbbing heat side to side, staring at the ceiling with his hands clenched into Max's hips, getting a feel for the delicate flesh inside his enemy. He knows, from personal experience, how easy it is to break, but if all Max were to feel would be pain, where would the fun be? The brain-exploding contradiction? And that's what he's going for here. Ziegfried counts his lucky stars that Max had been busy playing with himself when he walked in. Of course, that had been part of the plan. 

After a few weeks of surveillance, Ziegfried knew that whenever the girl with short hair left his apartment, Max would retire to his bedroom and scrounge out one of any number of assorted ass-toys he could find from his dresser, and wander back into the living room, watch the door wistfully, (probably imagining the face of the female flushed with desire) and pump himself for hours before lubing up and pressing the toy into his backside. Then, for reasons unknown to Ziegfried, he would /sit/ on it. 

He had occasionally watched in horror and arousal as Smart had to dig the toy back out with his fingertips, having lost it inside by accident. The younger man learned by process of analysis that anything with a wider bottom and a ring cut out of it generally kept its position, even if sat on. Ziegfried had been unable to remain unattached, (not that'd he'd wanted to - he'd simply tried to put up a fight, imagining the day when Control would win for good, to keep his erection down - and it hadn't worked) when Smart would press his pale buttocks into the low wall behind his couch, his legs splayed on either side of it, and moan like some sort of beast in heat, rocking hips forward and back, eyes trained on the blank door.

Feeling like Smart has probably adjusted now, Ziegfried knocks his feet apart with one of his, seizes the man with one arm around his chest and another beneath his knees, keeps him impaled while he shifts over to the low wall, lays his back across it, and pulls Smart on top of him. He props his feet up, closing his eyes with the satisfying feel of weight on top of him. 

Meanwhile, Max is lying on top of his archnemisis with the man's forbidden cock stuffed inside him, scared to death to move. Luckily, the decision is made for him.

"Sit /up/, Schmart!" Ziegfried instructs, pressing at Smart's back between his shoulder blades. 

"Should..." He gulps. "Should I turn around?" The hesitance would be endearing if Ziggy hadn't come here to just fuck his little ass up. He had a Madonna at home, and sex with /her/ is /not/ what he came for!

"Nein! Face the knees," his enemy instructs, jabbing two fingers into Smart's ribs in a mockery of the gunplay they'd often engaged in, in times past.

Smart winces, but does as he's told. He pulls himself up, hanging onto Ziggy's knees, then turning to look Ziegfried in the face for the first time since he'd laid his hands on him. Ziegfried's smile indicates that he approves.

"Und now!... Bounce!" 

"You want me to /what/?" Smart asks incredulously.

Ziegfried rolls his eyes. "Are you a virgin, Schmart? Bounce!" He thrusts his hips for emphasis.

"Ahh! God! Okay!" Smart braces his feet against either side of his low wall and presses himself up and settles back down. "That good enough for ya? Huh?" He's a little ticked off now. 

Ziggy just chuckles. "Ja, Schmart, das good. But, I vonder, could you do it just a /leetle/ bit faster?"

"Ugh!" Smart's really pissed now. Ziegfried surpresses a giggle. He seizes the other man's knees and starts rolling his hips in an unbelievably whorish way, panting half with the effort and half in the hope that if he pants loudly, the other man'll come faster, then rub /him/ off faster, then leave him /alone/!

The panting is more than Ziegfried can handle and watching the man's ass slap down onto his cock, his shirttails fluttering to emphasize the sight, is shooting heat pulsing through his groin, heat that's only leaving him more desperate. "Louder, Schmart!" he howls, thinking of nothing now but his own orgasm. 

Feeling a bit vengeful now, Smart presses his buttocks down into Ziegfried's lower stomach and sits there, keeping his hips as still as possible as he pants and curses and twists his shoulders, arms wrapped around the other man's knees. He knows it's not enough for Ziegfried, and the feel of his enemy's stomach and hips spasming to move under his dead weight is the most satisfying victory he's ever won over this particular KAOS agent. 

"Goddamnit, Schmart!" Ziegfried raises a fist to smack into something, but finding nothing to strike but himself or the man before him, he lowers it. He runs the tense fingers through his hair, then gets an idea. His hands fly forward and clench into Smart's hair, pulling himself up to his rider's ear level and hissing into it, "Schmart, unless you vant me to leaf you like dis, hot and /needy/-" he accentuates with another slow circling of the other man's cock, "-you vill muuf... your... HIPS!" 

Max leans away from him, one eye squinted against the shout, and whines when the other man smacks his hip to get him going again. "C'mon, Schmart," the one on bottom wheedles, "You vere doing so /vell/."

"Well, thank you, Ziegfried. You know, I'm usually not a man to brag, but..." Ziegfried watches incredulously as the man's hands come up to adjust his freakin' collar. He bites back a moan of relief when Smart shifts his hips unconsiously during his self-congratulatory speech. /Really/ at the end of his rope now, Ziggy interrupts him.

"SCHMART!" Max's ears start ringing, yet again. 

"What?" he snaps, irritated at being interrupted while verbally congratulating himself on receiving a compliment.

"My /dick/... is in your /ass/... und you are not... MOVINGK!" Ziegfried reminds him, dragging fingernails down Smart's back, which makes him twist and bow deliciously. Ziegfried has a sudden vision of lashings. Later, maybe. If there's time.

"Ugh!!" Smart groans aloud again, half in frustration, half in pain at the scrape. "Fine!" he declares. "You want off? /I'll/ get you off!" He twists his hips and thrusts against the other man's leg and bounces deliciously up and down, appreciative of Ziggy's hand sliding around its owner's girth to guide him in each time. His pace increases incrementally until Ziegfried is hissing his appreciation through his teeth and letting loose a groan once in a while to match Max's whorish slaverings. A real-life cock inside his ass is like nothing he's ever imagined - warm and throbbing, alive and moving, and God, does it ever feel---

"SHIT!" Max screams, then snaps a hand over his mouth, riding a few more waves in silence until Ziggy's cock hits his prostate again, sending sparks, too many to handle, into his brain, shorting out all thought. 

Ziegfried takes notice and presses back subtly on Max's stomach, leaning the front of his passage a bit more over the top to where his cock hits. He closes his eyes and /feels/ for it-- 

"GAAAH-ah-ha-ha! Whooo!" He finds it. Seizes the other man's hips and drives up into him, hitting it every time with Smart's help. The topping man's back is bent at what must be an impossible angle, for /his/ age, and his cock is wet as a woman's passage when Ziegfried grips it, his eyes still closed as insurance against the intermittent screaming of the man above him, screaming for god, for his orgasm, for more, harder, faster, /something/--

Max's screaming gets cut off by an answering howl and he feels something, a completely singular sensation - the instrument of pleasure inside of him's gone rigid, well, more rigid than before, and he feels it expand as if pressed from the inside--

Then Ziegfried's come is streaming down his inside walls and the man is still howling as Max inadvertently milks his orgasm from him, and in the blood-rushed seconds following this revelation, the German man's hand squeezes harder around his cock and only manages to pull twice before Max jerks inadvertently, screams weakly one last time, and comes, spurting over the other man's right thigh.

By the time either one of them can breathe again, the magic's gone out of the act, Max's back is wrenched in pain, and Ziegfried confesses that "Zat wall was probably not big enough for the two of us, Schmart."

Still his cheeky self through all the pain, Smart asks, half-sarcastically, "D'you enjoy yourself, Ziegfried?"

The other man just groans and rolls his eyes, shoves Smart off him and rolls over onto the couch, covering the other man with his warm, sticky mass, and drops instantly to sleep. Max... doesn't mind at all.

 

end


End file.
